


Burn the Memory

by Rinshi



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Dreams and Nightmares, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Meihem - Freeform, Panic Attacks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-20
Updated: 2017-06-20
Packaged: 2018-11-16 08:55:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,254
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11249820
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rinshi/pseuds/Rinshi
Summary: I wrote this piece for the Meihem fanbook, "Of Fireworks and Northern Lights."I see Jamison as a rather simple and guileless character. Not that he's unintelligent, because I also really like the headcanon that he's actually pretty smart when it comes to things like chemistry and engineering, but more that if he sees a problem, he's going to do what he can to fix it in the most direct way possible, even if that means his approach isn't entirely conventional or proper behavior. I like to think that this is part of what intrigues Mei about him, while at the same time infuriating her to no end.Anyway, I hope you enjoy this little piece. There are some minor descriptions of death, but I didn't really feel it warranted a warning or a higher rating. Special thanks to lucyrne for beta reading this!





	Burn the Memory

Mei Ling Zhou tapped her pen on the tablet of paper in front of her.

“We don’t have enough food,” she reported, looking over the list she’d made.

“What if we ration it?” Arrhenius suggested, his face grim as he rubbed a hand across his mustache.

Mei scribbled a quick note at the bottom of the page, then grabbed a piece of tape and stuck the paper to the front of the refrigerator.

“Even on severely limited rations - one cup of noodles a day and half of a protein bar each - we would only have enough food for four days,” she replied, pointing to the number she’d circled at the bottom, “That’s not enough to get through the storm, let alone wait for aid to get here.”

“And that’s  _ if _ anyone’s even coming,” MacReady added from where he stood leaning against the wall, snow still encrusting his shaggy hair and beard from examining the storm damage outside, “With the radio tower down they’re bound to realize something’s up when our supply order doesn't come in, but who knows how long it’ll take for them to organize and send a team? It could take weeks, months even, for anyone to get here.”

Adams crossed her arms, a look of worry on her delicate features as her thin red brows knit together.

“What can we do, then?” she asked, barely keeping a note of panic from her voice, “There has to be something we can do, right?”

Mei cleared her throat.

“I have an idea, actually,” she announced, and every eye in the room was on her in an instant. She swallowed.

“I think we should use the cryostasis pods. Like MacReady said: someone will notice that we’re not transmitting and send a team to investigate. We’ll go into stasis and wait for rescue.”

Opara and Torres looked at one another with a shared expression of unease. Torres frowned and looked down at his notes while Opara placed her elbows on the table and steepled her long, dark fingers as she fixed Mei with a pleading look.

“While I understand the nature of our situation, you know that the cryogenic chambers are still under development,” she said, “There are still simulations to be run before they are ready to be tested on organic matter, let alone human subjects. They were not intended to be used until deep winter, or in an emergency-”

“Well I’d say this is a pretty damn big emergency,” MacReady cut in, “The battery station isn't getting any juice with the solar array damaged, the radio tower is down and we can't go fix it with whatever the hell that storm is out there, and that means we can't call for help  _ or _ get a supply order in for the Pork Chop Express before we run out of food.”

Mei couldn't help but smirk a little at the name he used for their supply drone. Any time they needed anything, from food to clothing to parts to electrical equipment, they would send in their supply order and the drone would arrive a few days later. Most of what they ordered was food, though, and so MacReady had given the buzzing drone its playful moniker.

Since the strange storm hit about a week prior, everyone had been working around the clock to try to assess the damages and fix what they could. There hadn’t been time for anything else: even their table tennis game was still paused and abandoned. The anomalous storm was still wreaking havoc around their station, hovering nearby like a predator waiting for its prey to weaken and preventing them from reaching the radio relay or using the helicopter to leave. Not that there was anywhere helpful they could reach anyway; the helicopter was mostly for taking short research trips into the field, not for sustained flights.

The lights in the hab unit flickered, as though to punctuate MacReady’s point about the battery station. Everyone in the room had drawn and exhausted faces, and it wasn’t just food they were running out of; hope was beginning to be in short supply as well.

“Listen,” Mei said, “we have enough food for four days; let’s take that time to get the cryostasis pods ready. Like you said, they just need a few more tests. I know the system works - I helped you with the calculations myself! It’s the best option we have right now.”

The lights flickered again, and a sliver of anxiety began niggling at the back of Mei’s mind. Something seemed off, but she couldn’t quite put her finger on what it was.

“I think it’s a good idea,” Adams was saying, and Mei tried to focus back on the matter at hand.

“I don’t know,” Arrhenius interjected, “I’m not certain I’m comfortable trusting my life to untested technology.”

“You really can’t expect to accomplish months worth of testing in four days,” Torres added, “Going through with this could put all of our lives in danger.”

“She does have a point, though,” Opara admitted, “We  _ are _ running out of options.”

“The way I see it,” Mei told them, “is we can take the chance and maybe all survive this, or we can try to hold out, ration our food and water, and die anyway.”

_ Flicker _ .

Mei looked up at the lights in the ceiling, certain that something was wrong as every instinct suddenly screamed that she was in danger.

“But Mei, we’re already dead.”

It was Adams’s voice. Mei dropped her gaze back to the researcher and her heart leapt into her throat as she was greeted with the sight of a decaying corpse, mouth agape too wide in a silent scream. All of them, every single one of her companions was indeed dead, putrid flesh and rotten black holes where eyes should be staring at her everywhere Mei looked. The lights that now flickered constantly cast a sickly green glow around the room that now seemed as decayed as its occupants, the walls stained with brown splotches and something darker, furniture bent and overturned, and broken glass scattered on the floor. Was it her imagination, or were the corpses moving slowly?

The lights went out.

Something, or maybe several somethings, scraped across the floor in the darkness.

Mei screamed.

She sat up, pale-faced and breathing heavily, echoes of her own scream dying in her ears as she clutched her sweat-soaked bedsheets in her hands. Her heart pounded in her chest; she could feel it throbbing against her breastbone, hear her pulse thundering in her ears. Mei gulped in deep breaths of air, as though her lungs couldn’t fill enough, some invisible weight pressing on her chest and making it hard to breathe. Her gut was clenched tight, a leaden weight in her belly that quickly rose and sent her leaping out of bed, her hands barely lifting the lid on the toilet in her tiny bathroom out of the way before she vomited.

She splashed cold water on her face and stared at her reflection in the square mirror above her sink. With the water streaming down her face you almost couldn’t tell that it was streaked with tears. She bowed her head as a sob escaped her, gripping the sides of the small sink until her knuckles turned white.

From out in the room came the sound of a sharp knock on her door.

“Hey. Snowball. Ya alright?” a gruff voice called.

Mei grimaced.  _ Damn it. No. Not him. Not now. _

“Mei?”

“I’m fine!” she choked out, her own shaking voice betraying her lie, “Go away!”

There was silence for a moment, then his voice reached her again.

“Open the door. Please.”

It was the  _ please  _ that gave her pause. He was normally so brash and vulgar, without a single thought toward propriety. The uncouth oaf had barged into her room before; there was a dent in the wall to prove it from the impact of a metal teapot she’d hurled at his head. Now he was standing outside her door sounding calmer than she’d ever heard him, waiting, saying “please” like he  _ cared _ .

Mei crossed the room and touched the control on the wall so the door slid open. A tall, gangly figure stood in the hallway outside, his scraggly blonde hair a disheveled mess as he gazed down at her with eyes the color of fire. He was wearing ratty green gym shorts and a black tee shirt with “ _ What a lovely day!” _ across it. His peg-leg was attached but not his prosthetic arm, the cap over the stump gleaming silver in the dim light. Perhaps he had rushed out of bed.

“Panic attack?” he asked, tilting his head to one side as he studied her face.

“I told you, I’m fine,” Mei insisted, even though she knew she must look a complete wreck. Maybe if she said it enough she’d start to believe it herself.

“You’re not,” Junkrat replied, flat, “What happened?”

“It was just a stupid dream,” Mei snapped, voice shaking, “Go back to bed. Please. I can't do this right now.”

He didn’t budge. Instead he reached out toward her, stepping close and drawing her to him in an awkward one-armed hug.

“Wh-what are you-?! What's  _ wrong _ with you?!” Mei sputtered.

“Lotta things,” Junkrat said, his voice quiet, “but I ain't gonna hurt ya. Yer safe now. Nothin’s gonna get ya.”

He was so much taller than she was, and his arm felt so strong around her that she felt almost like a child in his embrace. She hated to admit it, but she did feel strangely safe there in his arms, and when she closed her eyes the accusing gaze of corpses didn’t stare back at her.

“Why are you doing this?” Mei asked, her voice a rasp as tears stung her eyes again.

“Hog’s gotta hold me down sometimes when I get the terrors,” he replied, and she could hear the smirk in his voice, “It’s basically the same thing, right?”

“Idiot…” she muttered, burying her face in his chest, “... you stink.”

“Yeah, I know.”

He placed his stump arm gently across her back and began to stroke her hair with his hand. Her own hands were tiny by comparison as she placed them hesitantly behind his back.

“Ya been doin’ a lotta research, right?” Junkrat asked, “Tell me about it.”

“Um, okay,” Mei replied, turning her head to the side with a sniffle, and she began to tell him about how she had recently taken a trip to Nepal to investigate one of the old, shut-down eco-Watchpoints there.

It had been a difficult climb through the mountains, but it had also been breathtakingly beautiful with the sun shining bright on the snow-capped peaks. She had been able to use her endothermic diffuser to create constructs of ice that helped her cross the difficult terrain, just as she had hoped. When she came upon the eco-Watchpoint it had been sealed up, but the elements had still taken their toll, so there were cracks in walls and broken windows. She had initially been disappointed to find it abandoned and mostly cleared out, either by the scientists who had left it behind or scavengers who had come upon it since. Any electronics that were left had been ruined by the freezing temperatures; if there was any data remaining, it was lost.

In one of the living quarters, however, she’d struck gold: a desk drawer filled with miraculously preserved paper notes. She had carefully packed them up and brought them with her, and even now she was still studying them, trying to piece together what had happened to the world while she slept, desperately searching for any clues that might help her going forward in her quest to preserve the planet.

“But you can’t possibly care about any of that,” she finished, stepping back and looking up at the strange junker named Jamison Fawkes.

“Course not,” he admitted with a flippant grin, “but that ain’t what’s important: how d’ya feel now?”

Mei placed a hand on her chest: a dull pain that had been there was eased, and she felt like she could breathe again. It no longer felt like her heart might beat right out of her ribcage. Her thoughts weren’t chasing each other in such a mad spiral anymore, and the quivering mess of her stomach had calmed somewhat. She certainly wouldn’t say that she was completely recovered, but…

“Better,” she told him, offering a weak smile, “I…”

She cast about for the right thing to say, her voice trailing off to nothing as her cheeks grew warm. Damn it, she was just embarrassed, that was all. She couldn't possibly be blushing for any other reason, and certainly not from the way he was smiling at her.

“Yer welcome, Snowball!” he chirped brightly as he reached out and ruffled her hair, “Y’know, if ya need me to I  _ could _ spend the-”

“In your dreams, Junkrat,” Mei interrupted, pushing him back out into the hallway, though she couldn't help the playful smile that crept across her face, “ _ Goodnight _ … and thank you.”

He turned to return to his quarters, tossing a grin over his shoulder and holding up his hand in a departing wave.

“Any time, little sheila. Can’t rightly get any sleep myself if yer screamin’ like a banshee in the middle of the night, now can I?”

“Yeah, yeah,” she mumbled to his retreating back just before she closed the door, “Still… I guess you're not such a no-good bully after all.”


End file.
